May I Have This Dance?
by lemonsmania
Summary: The clock is ticking, and Peter still can't dance.


**Hello everyone! It's been too long since I uploaded something. This story was actually inspired by Skandar Keynes saying on the LWW dvd commentary that William Moseley has no sense of rhythm. I actually wrote this a long time ago, and I can't say it's one of my best stories, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Please review, it would make my day. **

It was nearly a year after the Pevensies had been crowned, and the siblings were sitting together eating breakfast. Susan cleared her throat, and everyone looked up from the toast they had been buttering.

"Yes?" asked Edmund.

"I have decided," began Susan with an air of importance, "that it is time we all learn to dance." Peter's face grew pale.

"What's the occasion?" he asked.

"The _occasion_ is that in a month we will have a ball to celebrate our first year of reign. Preparations are being made, and one of those is dance lessons."

"But Su," said Edmund. "We didn't need to know how to dance at our coronation."

"Yes, but we were too busy fraternizing to need to dance. But now we shall have to, for it is tradition." She smiled matter-of-factly. The boys both groaned internally, but knew better than to argue with their sister. It would only upset her; she asked so little of them. _Although she is gentle,_ thought Edmund_, she can really be a pain._

Later that week, Miss Elora, the instructor from Archenland, arrived at Cair Paravel. She was part dryad, and renowned as the best dance teacher among many countries. Soon the four siblings found themselves dancing dance after dance, trying to find the best one to dance at the party. Lucy was small and light on her feet, and her bubbly energy allowed her to dance continuously without becoming tired. She was eager to learn, finding each dance like a new game. Susan was able to move with elegance, and made every hand gesture or knee bend look graceful. She was sure to attract attention from some male suitors at the ball. But the real surprise was Edmund. Edmund danced as if it was his expertise. Each move he made was precise, not a single step wrong. Edmund learned the dances so quickly that the instructor loudly asked,

"Where did you learn to dance this well, Just King?" Edmund blushed, and mumbled,

"I s'pose it's just natural." The instructor clasped her hands together and proclaimed,

"Natural? Why, it's a gift from Aslan! You are ready for more advanced dances." Unfortunately, Peter did not fare as well. Or even half as well. Peter, you could say, had two left feet. Or a complete lack of a sense of rhythm. Or no talent whatsoever. These were just a few of the comments the instructor made after having her toes stepped on one time too many. Immediately after saying this she apologized profusely, but it still stung. The day before the ball came, and Peter still was having trouble. By this point the others had mastered several dances, while Peter still struggled with the one. Susan was worried, but figured that if necessary she would send him to tend to an "emergency" elsewhere so that no one would notice his poor dancing.

That night, Edmund went down to fetch a midnight snack. He was growing rapidly, and was _always_ hungry. As he walked by the ball room to the kitchen, he heard a repetitive thudding noise. Edmund slowly tiptoed back, and peeked in the door.

"Peter?" gasped Edmund, unable to restrain himself. Peter was banging his head against the wall. Peter stopped for a moment and glanced at him.

"Hi Ed." He turned back to the wall and promptly started banging his head again.

"Stop it!" Edmund rushed forward and pulled his brother away from the wall. "Why are you hurting yourself?"

"I'm not doing it hard enough to hurt. I'm only cursing my stupidity."

"Stupidity?"

"Don't pretend you haven't noticed. Every time I try to dance I nearly take off someone's toes."

"You're not that bad." Peter raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so you can't dance. That doesn't explain why you're here."

"Why are you here?"

"I asked you first."

"I'm your older brother. And High King. I have more power." Edmund rolled his eyes, but grinned.

"Fine. If you must know, I had a sudden craving for an apple tart."

"An apple tart? Edmund, you ate a whole turkey breast at dinner!" Peter was by now used to Edmund's ravenous appetite, but still asked anyway. Edmund shrugged.

"I'm hungry." He patted his stomach for emphasis, and Peter gave a small smile, but then looked off sadly at the marble dance floors. "Okay, I'll bite," said Edmund. "What's wrong?"

"It's just…" Peter started. "You're all such good dancers. Lucy and Susan and you. Especially you. And then I'm…horrible. I can't be horrible. I'm the High King. I'm supposed to be the one that's good at things, the one to lead everyone. But if I can't even do something silly like dance, how am I supposed to rule Narnia?"

"Pete, you're a great king. But more than that, you're a great brother. Why does it matter if you can dance?"

"Because I don't want to let everyone down. Especially Susan. She's worked so hard planning this celebration, and then I'm going to embarrass everyone tomorrow by either dancing awfully or not dancing at all. And I thought I could practice tonight, but I'm just not getting it and-" Peter's voice cracked. Edmund looked at his brother, and felt a pang at his upset face. He reached out and gave him a hug. Peter looked down in surprise. Edmund's hugs were hard to come by, so he cherished the moment. He rested his head on his brother's mop of hair.

"You know Peter," said Edmund after the hug had ended. "I could help you." Peter sighed.

"It's hopeless, Ed. I'm a lost cause."

"Not necessarily. It might help if you dance with someone other than the dance instructor."

"Who exactly would I dance with? Everyone's asleep."

"You could dance with me," said Edmund.

"But you don't know the lady's part," protested Peter.

"Well actually…" he trailed off. Peter's eyes grew wide.

"Edmund! You know the girl's part?" Edmund's cheeks grew red.

"It's not like I asked to learn it! Miss Elora was having trouble with Lucy since there's such a large height difference so she taught it to me so I could help her."

"Oh." There was a pause, and then Peter smiled. "Well then, Edmund. May I have this dance?"

The following evening at the ball, the four Kings and Queens walked in together. Edmund took Lucy's hand and Peter took Susan's, and then the music began. It was a Narnian dance, called the Alayden. Susan was prepared to be dragging Peter along, but to her surprise he led like he was supposed to! And he didn't stumble as near many times as he had of late. When the dance ended, there was a large amount of applause. The boys bowed and the girls curtsied, and the party began.

Later that night, Susan looked around for Peter, and found him fetching a glass of water. When he turned and saw Susan, he handed it to her.

"Thank you, Peter. I must say I am surprised," said Susan, taking a sip. Peter gave her a confused look.

"That I gave you a glass of water?" Susan laughed.

"No, no, I'm surprised that you only stepped on my feet twice. How did you improve so quickly?" asked Susan. Peter glanced over at Edmund, who was speaking with the Beavers.

"Let's just say, sister, that I'm friends with the best dancer in Narnia, who happens to be the best brother as well." With that Peter walked away, and Susan watched as he put his arm around his brother's shoulders and whispered something in his ear. Though she could not hear, she was almost positive she saw her older brother's lips form the words, "Thank you."


End file.
